


gettin better every day

by TheSubtextMachine



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Casual Flirting, Gen, M/M, Makeover, everyone is queer and everyone is happy, like all my best work this was done after a conversation with ando-meck-or-perisj, queer eye AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-08-26 05:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16675819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSubtextMachine/pseuds/TheSubtextMachine
Summary: TJ Kippen is a college graduate down on his luck, living with his mom and coping with a rough breakup.The Fab Five, made of five experts with fantastic hair and good will in their hearts, are gonna fix that.





	1. Day 1

“Okay, guys, who do we have?” asked Cyrus, leaning against the backseat of the car. It was absolutely stuffed with the GHC, as they informally called themselves. Andi reached across Jonah, who was shoved into the center of the backseat, to ruffle Cyrus’ hair kindly, eliciting a sweet smile from Cyrus that was barely caught on camera.

“We have TJ Kippen, who was nominated by his mom,” said Buffy behind the wheel, confidently steering her way across the sparse Utah traffic.

-

The footage then cut to TJ’s mom herself, fidgeting a bit beneath the false, bright lights that shone down on her.

“TJ is… a mess. He’s always late, he’s been wearing the same basketball shorts for year, and his apartment is awful. He’s got potential, but he’s so lost right now. Ever since his boyfriend eft him, he’s just lost his will to take care of himself.”

-

“He’s gay?” Andi asked, excited.

“You bet! He’s single right now, but the event we’re planning to get him to is a singles night, which will certainly be interesting,” said Buffy, fighting the wave of apprehension that flowed through her at the concept of working with what sounded like a certifiable dudebro. Considering her consistent clashing with _that_ personality type, she was more than a little bit skittish.

“So how much should I prepare myself for this guy’s apartment? Are we talking about structural damage here or does he just need a vacuum?” Marty asked, his goal of interior design at the front of his mind. 

“Included in his file is some pictures, and I’ll be honest… it’s going to be brutal for you. I’m sitting pretty today, TJ at least knows to shave his beard and brush his hair, so my job is halfway done. Give me five minutes and some facial cleanser, and then I can zip out.”

Marty furrowed his brow at her for a second, nestling a bit in the passenger seat and worrying a bit about why she would be so focused on quote unquote “zipping out”. Marty always had the habit of worrying about Buffy and Buffy alone, to the point of some comedic disregard for the others.

(There may or may not have been some tape that was cut of Jonah full on face-planting on a track where they were inspiring a Straight Guy to better his life, and Marty in the background only responded with a cold look into the camera and a shrug. In comparison, there was a bunch of other footage that was just made of Marty going full mother hen on Buffy’s occasional skinned knee. The editors had even put together an unofficial collection of clips that was just Marty worrying about Buffy’s wellbeing.)

“Architecture, schmarchitecture. Is this how he dresses all of the time?” Cyrus asked, squinting his eyes at the picture.

“If his mom is to be believed, yes,” Buffy said, causing Cyrus to groan as theatrically as possible. Jonah himself seemed a bit lost in thought.

“Penny for your thoughts, Jonah?” Andi asked, flicking him on his ear.

Andi herself was already formulating healthy, protein filled snacks that would be perfect for TJ’s workout schedule, but she was beyond curious about what was already brewing in Jonah’s head.

“Ex-Boyfriend, you say?” he asked, causing Buffy to give a curt nod and vague noise of assent.

“I’ll make it work. I hope he’s ready for some embarrassing breakup stories of my own,” Jonah said, shifting back into his jovial persona with ease.

“Is anyone ever ready for the story of crazy Harry?” Buffy asked, causing waves of laughter through the car.

“How many of your plates did he break, again?” Marty asked. A dark look flashed in front of Jonah’s eyes.

“All of them,” he said, low and reverent.

“A moment of silence,” Andi added.

-

There was another establishing shot of Utah, backed by some fun, upbeat music, before the footage cut back to the car as it rolled into the parking lot of an apartment complex.

The gang crept out of the car, one by one, greeting TJ’s mom at the door, shaking her hand and giving their hushed greetings.

Then, they made their way through the house, led by Mrs. Kippen. The camera lingered on a couple of family pictures: TJ in middle school, holding a championship trophy, TJ on college graduation day, holding his degree for Physical Education, and one of the whole family when TJ was still young, all on a picnic table.

Finally, the whole group stopped in front of a door, where occasional noises of video game blasts and grunts of effort streamed through. The door itself had been stripped bare: little white fades where decorations and signs used to be. 

TJ’s mom shuffled through the mass of people to the door, knocking in what was obviously an established pattern between the two of them. Immediately, the noises from the game stopped, replaced by footsteps thudding on carpet.

He opened the door, revealing a TJ not shown in family portraits. Here, his usually slick hair was greasy and unkempt, splayed across his head. He was confused at the sight of the GHC in front of his door, and his wide eyes were accentuated by the deep bags beneath them.

“DAMN, son!” Buffy interrupted, shoving herself to the front so she could reach for the hair itself, causing the people around her to laugh a bit as she examined the oily strands up close, “when was the last time you used shampoo?” 

TJ pulled himself away from Buffy’s grasp, causing him to walk right into Cyrus, with his arms crossed and a faux-judgemental look on his face.

“Are those… basketball shorts?” Cyrus asked, as TJ moved back and got to face him properly.

“It’s a casual saturday! Can’t I have this?” TJ exclaimed defensively.

“Casual saturdays? What are you, straight? Grow up,” Jonah joked, causing TJ to turn around once again.

“Who _are_ you?!” he exclaimed, putting his hands up and looking around like a frightened squirrel.

“These are the people who are gonna help you out of this rut you’re in,” his mom said, arms crossed and voice steady.

“How?! By roasting me within an inch of my life?!” he screeched.

“No. By _helping_ you within an inch of your life,” Andi said, taking on the intonation of a superhero from a movie.

“The roasting is just for fun, honestly,” Buffy added, before tapping Marty on the shoulder to let him know that the professional part of their work was about to begin.

“So, TJ. You ready to get help?” he said, his tone turned more serious and sincere.

“God help me. I’ll try this out, I guess,” TJ said, earning a ruffle of his hair from his mom and a series of hearty pats on the back.

“No need to call me _God_ , Buffy quipped.

-

The first one on one “getting to know you session” was between Andi and TJ, making lunch for the whole squad. She was already trying to plant her seeds of excellence, to sway him away from just cooking three pots of ramen at the same time.

“But it would be a good challenge, though! Isn’t that what you guys are all about?” he asked as Andi snatched the packet of dry ramen out of his hands again. 

“This isn’t the type of challenge you’ll thrive on- stop! No!” she yelled, leaping forward to block him from getting into one of the cabinets.

“Well, what do you suggest, then?” he asked. He moved away from the cabinet a little bit, but Andi knew enough about false senses of security to let up on her defense.

“I don’t know… what do you like to eat? Not the easy thing, but what you actually like.”

“Well, it’s probably hard to make and I don’t wanna-”

“We’ll find an easy way to make it. You can make brownies in a mug, these days, the world is your oyster! What’s something lunch-y we could all eat?” 

TJ considered it for a second, stepping even further away from the cabinet holding the stacks of ramen.

“Have you had those protein bowls from, like, smoothie places?” he asked. 

Andi smiled, and dove into the refrigerator as TJ put on a good cooking playlist.

-

Over lunch, Buffy began her own plans as she sat on the couch with TJ, eating polite bites of the protein bowl he had made, which was messy but still functionally tasty. Andi clearly had a good springing board, she had already started thumbing through her files of intermediate level recipes for healthy food. 

“So what’s your morning routine, TJ?” she started, keeping her tone professional. It took a bit of effort to shove all her past memories of fuckboys being too scared of her confident attitude to treat her like an actual human being. TJ stank of that fear, of that intangible terror over the idea of being bested by god forbid, a _woman_.

“One good days or bad days?” he asked with a smirk on his face, trying and failing to mask his discomfort, just now coming to the light.

“Which happens more?” she asked, already sensing this conversation going south.

“Recently? Bad days. I basically just do nothing. Wake up, waste time, fall asleep. The, uh, classic depressive episode stuff. But that’s not me, it’s just… the depressed version. Like an evil twin or something. I’m not lazy, I’m just having a rough time, y’know?”

“I know,” Buffy said, her eyes narrowed, as if she was balancing between shock and suspicion. This was not the fuckboy type she was familiar with.

“Depression really be like that,” TJ said, trying to force a lighter tone into it, which only made Buffy put her arm on his shoulder.

“It really do. I can’t fix that, but I can make it easier to do your hair in the morning,” she said in return as she patted TJ’s greasy, unkempt hair. He only gave her a smile, before closing his eyes in preparation.

“I’d really like that,” he said, oddly vulnerable.

Buffy wasn’t won over yet, but she could live with helping this guy. She punctuated the conversation with a ruffle of his hair, making him flinch and laugh a little bit. 

-

“Okay, on a scale of zero to one hundred percent, how much of your room hasn’t been touched in two years?” Marty asked, speaking from across the room to TJ, who was sitting on his bed, while Marty hung in the doorway, surveying his canvas with an appraising eye.

“Fifty two? I don’t open the drawers, or anything, but I still walk around?”

“A precise fellow. That’ll be helpful,” Marty said. 

“So, uh, what are you thinking?” TJ asked, looking around the room, trying to see it through Marty’s eyes. It was hard, seeing the room without all the memories and baggage, and he felt like he just couldn’t shake the past off.

“Clean it, first and foremost. Get the grime out, get the junk out. Then we’ll see where the night takes us,” he said, and TJ fought a dumb, futile blush at the words and the way the words reminded him of his Eligible Bachelor days. He supposed for a second that his Eligible Bachelor days were happening again, but it felt weird like this, after the ex. 

“Can I ask a weird question?” said TJ, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Shoot.”

“Could I get one of those hand chairs? They look really cool,” he said, for a moment envisioning his room as something other than what it has always been. Marty just laughed, and they had their moment of shared understanding. It hit TJ that this might not be as bad as he feared.

-

TJ had become visibly exhausted by the time he and Jonah sat down on the outside porch steps. TJ had adopted enough momentary courtesy to pour Jonah a glass of lemonade with way too much ice, taking one bottle of Gatorade before taking on what was to be an inevitably rough conversation.

“So, what’s your background here? College? Any former jobs? Current jobs? Tell me all the hot deets,” Jonah said with no irony whatsoever. TJ could only laugh a bit, looking down at the ground and wondering how the hell he got there.

“I have a degree in Physical Education, so I’m all college-d up. I help out at a local kid’s gym every other week, and it’s one of the only things I’ll wake up at 7 in the morning to do. They’re pretty great kids, so it makes it worth it,” TJ said, smiling a bit at the ground with the memories of teaching people how to do somersaults. 

“Woah! That’s awesome! Is it a paid job, or more of a volunteering gig?”

“Volunteering, but they are actually getting some openings, and I’m thinking of applying. It would be rough, though, I have zero work experience and-”

“How long have you been volunteering there?” Jonah interrupted, already thinking it through.

“This is my second year, but-”

“I think I figured out one of your missions for this week. You’re going to shoot your shot, here, and we’re going to put together some kickass resume,” Jonah said, gesticulating wildly as the plan formed properly in his mind. He totally ignored the clear uncertainty on TJ’s face.

“I’m not going to get it, though. I’m unqualified, and there really isn’t a reason to hire me,” TJ said in response before taking a nervous sip of his Gatorade.

“We’ll see… we’ll see,” Jonah said in response, laughing kindly and refusing to acknowledge the doubt in the air. He was basically bouncing with anticipation.

-

The final first meeting of the day was with Cyrus, on the living room couch while the rest of the crew puttered around together in the kitchen, trying to dance around each other while making what smelled like lasagna but looked like a mess.

“So I bet this has been one hell of a day for you,” Cyrus began, settling into the couch while TJ took a sip of hot cocoa from a “Best Grandpa” mug.

“You know it. It’s half fun and half terrifying,” TJ said, moving so he faced Cyrus on the couch.

“Like a good horror movie,” said Cyrus. They shared a laugh, then silence.

“So, you’re the clothes guy, right?” TJ asked before he shot a look to the kitchen after hearing an ominous crash from the kitchen. Cyrus only rolled his eyes and leaned back further into the cushy couch, holding his own cup of hot cocoa.

“Yeah. I’m the best dressed and the least functional, it’s my claim to fame.”

“Please, you look super functional,” said TJ, playfully slapping Cyrus’ shoulder with a wide smile, laughing a bit. 

“C’mon, I have, like, toddler levels of functionality. Sometimes, instead of making sandwiches, I just eat the parts of the sandwich separately.”

“Oh my god, you do that too?” asked TJ, so excited that he spilled a bit of cocoa on the couch, causing him to hiss, then put the hot cocoa on the couch, but he was a bit too fast and some of the cocoa splashed on his hand, resulting in a loud yelp of pain. Once the cup was on the table, he tried to mop up the mess with the hem of his shirt, one arm occupied with that and the other desperately trying to shake off the pain of a light burn.

Naturally, this turned Cyrus into a giggling mess.

“Okay, step one in the fashion process will be finding some disaster proof clothes. Disaster proof, comfortable, and flattering. DPCF.”

“DPCF. I’m down for that. I put the D in down for that, for sure,” stuttered TJ.

“Y’all ready for lasagna?” yelled Marty through the wall, leading to Cyrus and TJ sharing a look of “can you believe them?”, before they clambered off the couch for what was bound to be a very interesting dinner.


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its time for the joint work of Culture and INteriror design!!!

Day two started with cloudy skies and the hum of distant thunder, which made it an absolutely perfect day for some spring cleaning. This effort was led by Marty, who corralled most of the gang into the project. Only Andi and Buffy weren’t in the fray, since they were off shopping, laying down the basis for their own makeovers.

“Okay, team,” said Marty, standing tall in front of everyone as they sat on the couch and floor, looking dreary as the storm threatened to rage outside, “Step one? Get out all the stuff we don’t need. Step two, clean what we got. Step three? Profit.”

“Are we going to get any new furniture? I thought that’s what you usually do,” said TJ, feeling a bit like he got cheated.

“Yeah, we’ll get you new furniture. Once we find the apartment you’ll be living in. But for now, son? You need to learn how to clean,” said Marty, ignoring the suddenly overwhelmed face of TJ at the idea of getting his own apartment sometime soon.

“But we only have a week...” muttered TJ, looking around wildly.

“We lay down the groundwork and make some IKEA reservations,” said Cyrus, putting a comforting hand on TJ’s shoulder, getting a smile from TJ and a knowing look from Jonah to the camera. 

“So… where will we start?” asked TJ, looking around at the crew expectantly.

“It’s deep clean hour, sir. Everything in your room, other than the big furniture, it’s going into the living room. Books, stray pens? It’s on this living room floor. We will work through that in Thrift Store Jackpot hour. Are you ready to take on this task, my young protege?”

“I’m a year older than you, what do you-”

“Shhh. It’s deep clean hour. Don’t ruin this for me,” said Marty, before marching to the bedroom door with unconcealed glee. His high school track team roots showed: he was moving _fast_. TJ turned to Cyrus, keeping eye contact.

“He means business, doesn’t he?” 

“I’m afraid so,” said Cyrus, once again putting his hand on TJ’s shoulder. Jonah turned to the camera again, letting his reaction be a bit more clear to the cameraman. The two maintained silence for a second, simply looking at each other, before Cyrus turned around and got everyone up and at ‘em.

-

TJ’s mom put on her favorite cleaning playlist, and the music streamed through the house as a steady stream of people paraded in an out of TJ’s room, holding objects and bags of stuff in their hands, looking more determined than any of them had a right to be.

While her favorite eighties hits played, TJ got his fair share of ribbing. It began in style, with Jonah saying, quite loudly, “I’m keeping a count of everything I pick up that has a really big logo on it. It’s time to shame Hype Beast TJ.”

(The count turned out to be in the high thirties, for those curious.)

The next big bit was the baseball cap stacks, where Marty tried to see how many caps he could stack on his head, and if he could walk without the tower of sports merchandise on his head. It was modeled over those princess makeover movies, where perfect posture was talked about with books on the head.

Said caps were eventually handed over to TJ, and Jonah began one part of his mental health agenda by helping TJ project confidence again, starting with posture.

“How tall can you be?” Jonah asked, his voice hilariously serious as caps were stacked on TJ’s head, one by one and creating a clashing, neon rainbow above his head.

“I’m six-four, but what we do you mean by how tall can I be? In heels or-”

“With good posture. If you’re slouching all the time, like I’ve seen you do, you don’t _look_ that tall,” said Jonah, slipping into his Teaching Voice.

“How tall do I look?” TJ asked. His eyebrows creased, and Cyrus had to hold his head still to stop him from cocking his head with curiosity.

“Do I look like someone who knows how tall people are?” said Jonah, dropping the case as quickly as possible.

“Then why are you asking me about-”

“To better yourself!” said Jonah, and his defensive tone made Cyrus release his hands from TJ’s face, his eyes alight with curiosity. This made TJ’s head begin to tilt, since his eyes were too trained on the action to remember the task at hand (or more specifically, piled on his head). The hats came toppling down, and Marty had to pick up the fallen pieces and rebuild the Tower of TJza. 

“Wait, do you not know people’s heights?” Cyrus asked, not even looking at the baseball cap silliness behind him.

“Why would I? What do you learn? Knowing heights is just a straight person thing, like wearing socks with sandals or bringing a guitar to a party,” said Jonah, and the energy in the room began to ramp up as people got ready to riff on each other.

“What else is a straight people thing? Just curious…” asked Marty, putting Jonah on the spot.

“I don’t know? I guess, um, lame pranks and being mean as a flirting tactic? Whatever, let’s just get back to work!” said Jonah, leaving the room with lightning fast paces.

TJ could be seen in the background laughing his ass off, two baseball caps stacked on his head, making for the perfect tableau of absolute craziness in the cleaning process.

Three jokes about “straight people things” and one broken lava lamp later, TJ’s room was practically bare, leaving only flat surfaces and dust. “Dancing Queen” played in the back, and TJ looked at his room, reduced down to the basics. Felt off-putting, seeing all the dust and dirt so clearly. It was just him and Marty, staring at the remains.

“Okay Kippen, are you ready to get rid of this fucking dust?”

“I think so.”

The ensuing cleaning montage, with the present members of the GHC taking shifts on being his vacuuming buddy. Each had their own modus operandi, starting with Marty and his pure, jock-ish energy, as he danced through the room and made broad strokes with his hand vacuum, putting finesse and music into all of his movements.

Then came Cyrus, the precision cleaner, who came in with a mask over his mouth that he tried to talk through. He spent time in every area, trying to pick up anything he could. He had his biggest field day while working on the bookshelf.

“So, what belongs on this shelf?” he asked, albeit it sounded much more muffled, something closer to “sho, what behongs on shis shelf?”. 

“Books, I guess.”

“What are your favorites?” Cyrus asked, lifting up his mask to make his voice clearer.

“If you throw away the mask, I’ll tell you,” challenged TJ, his voice joking but his voice vaguely intense in a way that was undeniably flirty. 

“Fine,” said Cyrus, trying to stay professional despite the (very cute, very single) guy flirting with him. He threw it into the little waste bucket they brought “just in case”, and he looked at TJ expectantly.

“Harry Potter,” said TJ. 

“I risked my health for that?” Cyrus asked, laughing a little bit.

“If you risk your health even more I’ll tell you which of the books is my favorite,” TJ said, laughing a bit as he got back to work, turning on the vacuum again and drowning out any of Cyrus’ possible response. 

Jonah knocked on the door, and they quietly traded shifts.

“Okay TJ, are you ready for the most important phase of the clean surfaces project?” Jonah asked, and TJ’s eyes darted to the bucket of water in Jonah’s hands.

“Are we going to be cleaning the floors Cinderella-style?” TJ asked, peeking inside the bucket to see rags, and he dipped his hand in, feeling a calming sort of warmth in the water. He gripped a rag, and pulled it up, before wringing out the dripping water.

“Floors and bookshelves and everything else. This is where your room will start to feel really, truly clean. And then? The restart button is pressed. Now let’s get to wiping!” Jonah said, taking over the room with exuberance. TJ could only attempt to follow in his footsteps, until he felt the urge to just follow his own instincts.

Soon, he was dancing along to the beat of the music, hitting on structure at a time. First the bookshelf, then the mirror, then the desk. He felt the things being checked of his mental list, and it only gave him the energy to keep going.

After a solid fifteen minutes, TJ decided to take a break by literally throwing in the towel and lumbering over to his bed, now only a bare mattress.

“TJ? Are you… should I say… _wiped_ out?” Jonah asked, and TJ groaned so hard that he flipped over in the bed.

“Dude, that was awful. Now I need a new fresh start to clean the bad energy of that pun out of my room,” said TJ, his voice muffled by the cushioning of the mattress. Jonah decided to put his own towel down, and he hopped on the mattress, sitting by TJ with a knowing smile on his face.

“So, how are you liking this fresh start? Before I ruined it with the pun,” he said, and TJ flopped on his back again. There was a crash from downstairs, followed by the distinctive screech of an angry Marty, and TJ couldn’t help but smile fondly.

“I think I’m a fan. It does feel weird, but, like… a good weird,” he said.

“Here, we’re teaching you one of my favorite pieces of mental health maintenance, aight?” asked Jonah, getting into his trademark Hip Youth Teacher/Preacher mode. 

“By having a clean room?”

“By devoting time to cleaning your room. It’s a simple task that feels hella productive, right? And when your room feels cleaner and more put together, that’s one less thing that can make you feel like a trainwreck. It might not work for everyone, but I personally find a lot of relief in stuff like spring cleaning, ya feel?”

“But cleaning kinda sucks. I mean, all that dust and shit…” said TJ, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Better that you take it out than having it lying around. Look around, bro. Doesn’t this feel fresh?” Jonah asked, sounding so earnest that TJ let a smile loose, breaking through his trepidation.

“I guess.”

“Fresh is good! If you want to start over, start over at the place where you started. Now the question is… are you ready to finish this wipedown and rebuild your room from top to bottom?” asked Jonah, and even though it seemed like such a giant, Herculean task, TJ nodded yes and stood up.

-

TJ stood in front of the piles in the living room, flanked by his cleaning assistants on both sides. He took a deep breath in, then a deep breath out.

“This is a lot,” he said, simply and with all the honesty and vulnerability he could muster.

“That’s why we break it up into smaller piles. Jonah’s on car duty for your ‘give away’ pile, Marty’s on legwork duty, so he’s be mostly dealing with the trash and making the small piles,” said Cyrus, putting on his business voice.

“What duty are you on?” TJ asked with a smile.

“Emotional support. Which entails curbing any hoarder behaviors, telling you that it’s okay to let go of that stuffed animal, and making jokes about the stuff we inevitably find.”

“How is making fun of me emotionally supportive?” asked TJ, scrunching his nose in a way that made Cyrus’ heart flutter a little bit.

“Don’t question my methods!”

Jonah interrupted the banter by grabbing TJ’s arm, and leading him across the living room to the first pile, right on the perimeter. TJ took a seat, and he breathed as deeply as he could, calming his frayed nerves.

“Teej? You’ve got this,” said Cyrus, taking a seat right next to him. 

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

-

The sun was beginning to set, and they were halfway through the pile. Andi and Buffy had come back, and they had started to work together on the group’s dinner. TJ kept being almost tempted away from the task by the wandering scent of a pasta dinner. 

“I wanna eeeeat,” he whined. Jonah was on the fifth Goodwill run of the afternoon, dropping off a pile of too small sportswear, so it was just Cyrus and Marty, left to deal with the whims of a troubled gay youth.

“You have literally one pile left! This is so attainable, my man! One more pile, and then you can dig into that sweet beef stroganoff!” urged Cyrus.

“Stroganoff? You guys are pampering me, wow,” said TJ, and he threw a neon orange t-shirt into the “keep” pile, until Cyrus plucked it out and threw it in the “throw away” pile. “Not give away?”

“Nobody should ever wear that. Especially you. I’m doing the lord’s work and taking one more neon orange shirt out of this world,” said Cyrus.

“Damn, I feel a lot less pampered now. That was a roast.”

“I’m pampering you by taking away your neon orange shirts. That’s the real way I show love.”

“Is that what you do on you and your boyfriend’s anniversaries? Burn neon orange shirts?” asked TJ, and he preemptively threw another one of those shirts into the trash pile.

“If I had a boyfriend, that would be our date nights, and weddings. Not just anniversaries. I spread the love,” said Cyrus, and he motioned for Marty to officially cart the trash pile away. TJ’s eyes went from Cyrus’ face to the picture in his hands, some snapshot from when he was 10 at an amusement park.

“Good to know,” TJ said, letting all his fondness and sentiment over cleaning out his life seep into his tone. He put the picture in the “keep” pile.

“Dinner’s ready!” shouted Andi from across the hallway, breaking TJ’s moment of silent reflection. He didn’t care all that much, he was _starving_.

-

“So, any insights you got today?” Buffy asked as they all sat around the Kippen dining table, the one that no one ever used unless it was Thanksgiving or a birthday. It was the only seating area that could fit the GHC, now that the living room was cluttered with the remaining piles of stuff to sort.

“I feel like I’m moving on in, like, a very physical way. I threw out a lot of my memorabilia from my last relationship, and it’s a weird symbolic feeling. But it’s nice. Weird and nice.”

“I know that I only got over _my_ ex when I cleaned all her stuff out of my apartment,” said Andi, “When you hang on to all that stuff, you’re also hanging on to all the emotional stuff that comes with it, y’know? Like, she did a drawing of me, and after we broke up, I figured that I could leave it up, because it was a nice drawing and I figured that I could mentally separate myself from it.”

“I’m guessing that didn’t work?” asked TJ.

“Not at all. Every time I looked at it, I remember the night the gave it to me, and then a part of me hoped that we’d get back together, because I was constantly reminded of that one, nice night. And once I took it down, I got enough distance to move on, if that makes any sense.”

“It actually makes a lot of sense. I threw away some weird shit, though,” said TJ, running his hand through his hair sheepishly, making Marty laugh a little bit.

“Ooh, like what?” asked Buffy.

“Lots of little notes. Some pictures. The weird thing, though, was that for my birthday he gave me a bunch of baseball caps, and-”

“Oh my god, that’s where those came from?” asked Jonah.

“Yeah. good Birthday gift for Past TJ. Now it’s just clutter.”

“That’s the spirit! New TJ is too cool, too hip for baseball caps,” said Andi, pointing her fork at TJ to emphasize her point.

“From now on, it’s newsboy caps and mental health,” said Cyrus, raising his cup of water for a toast. Everyone joined in, happily clinking together their glasses.

“The changes have begun!” said TJ, enthusiastic and almost childlike.

“Wait until you get your makeover,” added BUffy, punching his shoulder in a friendly way.

“I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy guys u know the drill, comment if u wanna brighten my day, and hmu on tumblr @thesubtextmachine if you want to bring even more sun into my life. see u next time!!!!!


	3. Day 3

Day Three started with Andi and Buffy in the car, with TJ awkwardly trying to fit in the backseat. His fidgeting could be seen in the space between Andi and Buffy’s seats, trying to find comfort in the limited leg space of the back seat. Buffy watched the whole thing in the rearview mirror with a bit of a grin, fueled by what she knew to be misplaced schadenfreude. 

“So we’re going to…?” TJ asked, deciding to focus on his own self improvement journey as opposed to the uncomfortable position.

“Target. You’re lucky Marty isn’t here, he insists on pronouncing it tar-shay,” said Andi.

“We’re always lucky if Marty’s here. He is a delight,” defended Buffy protectively. She playfully swatted Andi’s arm, and TJ grinned at the comfortable, friendly interaction.

“What’s on the shopping list?” TJ asked.

“Food and hair products,” said Buffy, pulling out her phone’s shopping list and twisting around to display it to TJ. 

“What’s arugula?” TJ asked, squinting his eyes at the screen in front of him.

“You’re going to find out,” said Buffy, an ominous tone in her voice.

“Holy shit, now I’m scared?! What’s arugula?” asked TJ again, now looking to Andi behind the driver’s seat, who shot the camera a knowing grin while shrugging.

“I have no idea. Buffy made me put it on the list,” said Andi, visibly holding back laughter.

“First you make me better, and then you kill me with an unknowable object. You guys are the cruelest gays I’ve ever met, and I am including myself in that list,” said TJ. He took a couple of deep breaths, visibly reasoning himself that arugula, as ominous as it sounded, couldn’t be that dangerous.

“Teej, you know that you can look it up on your phone, right?” Andi asked.

“You may be the cruelest of the gays, but I am by far the dumbest,” he said, slowly pulling out his phone with a long suffering sigh.

“You are also one of the most dramatic,” said Buffy, and the whole car was filled with a warm, casual laughter as TJ typed the word in (misspelled), and waited for it to load. Then, the web page loaded, and he sighed again.

“You put me through all of this for a vegetable?” TJ asked, and Andi erupted into giggles, which only made TJ sigh louder, albeit with the smile on his face ruining the effect of it.

“Also for our entertainment,” added Buffy, only increasing the intensity of the smiles in the car. For a solid, beautiful moment, everyone felt at ease with each other.

-

“Step one,” began Andi, holding up a fresh ball of lettuce with panache. “Lettuce is god.”

It was off to pretty surreal start, to say the least.

“Please elaborate,” T.J. said, wide eyed and a bit overwhelmed by the bright white lights of the store and the too-cold air conditioning.

“Lettuce is a fantastic base, a foundation on which you can build anything. You could eat a whole head of this shit, do not underestimate its importance in your life. You could build a society on the foundation of lettuce, but today, we are just building meals,” said Andi.

“I’m assuming this is the salad portion of my cooking tutorial?” 

“Yes. Know your basics. Now that you know your salad basics-”

“Just lettuce?”

“Just lettuce. That’s the most conventional ingredient, and if you just want the reliable salad. Now that you know the establishment, I’m gonna teach you how to go against it,” said Andi as she gingerly placed the lettuce back in its serene place. 

“Wait, but lettuce is god, so are you suggesting we…” T.J. trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

“We are going to become salad witches. And our potions? In season vegetables,” said Andi. T.J. laughed lightly, and she steered the cart across the aisle, followed by the adoring eyes of both Buffy and T.J.

“I’m intrigued,” he said, watching as she stood in front of some arugula, looking over the leafy greens with an analytical eye. 

“Salads are just throwing everything into a bowl, right? The question then becomes: what the heck is going into that bowl?” asked Andi, and T.J. almost made a move to respond before she barrelled through her diatribe, “The thing about in season vegetables is that they are less expensive and way fresher. It takes a little bit of research, but it saves you money _and_ keeps you eating veggies. Here’s my list of in season vegetables, so go ham!”

She passed him a neat, washi-taped folder, and he opened it up to see a nice grocery list of random vegetables. Without much ado, he began his scavenger hunt of produce both common and rare, feeling a bit more confident every second.

It felt weirdly adult, he thought, bustling around a grocery store and referring carefully to a neat list. Is this adulthood, he wondered, finding weird pride in doing basic tasks?

He figured that at the very least, it was growth.

He picked out various veggies, ranging on the spectrum of obvious to obscure, from broccoli to turnips. He shivered at the idea of putting turnips in anything, but he decided that nothing good would come of asking questions about Andi’s taste in vegetables. 

“So all this is in season?” he asked, casually lobbing a plastic bag into the cart.

“Yup! And it only took one google search!”

“What else do I need to know about salads?” T.J. asked, checking the list and mentally checking off the last item it held.

“Check the next page,” she said. She took control of the shopping cart as T.J. fumbled with the folder in his grasp

“Salad spinner?” he read out loud, looking at the neat penmanship with a slight confusion. “Aren’t those just, like… a weird kitchen accessory?”

“I’m gonna keep it simple here, Teej. Soggy salads are the worst, and the point of spinners is to literally spin the veggies so fast that the excess water just whooshes out. You can technically just put the vegetables in a towel and spin it around like a maniac, but you have enough money to spring for the easier thing. It’s also really fun to push the button and watch it spin. Simple joys,” she said as she walked, T.J. trailing behind and taking in her words with slow nods. His eyes skimmed the rest of the lists.

“Why do you have different pages for the lists?” he asked, flipping through them.

“Oh, that’s just for party shopping. By which I mean, uh-” said Andi, her focus flagging as her eyes caught on the seafood aisle.

“When multiple people are shopping, and speed is the goal, she gives them a list for each major section of the store. That way you can divide and conquer without printing the whole list seven times,” Buffy intercepted, picking up easily as Andi gravitated to the shelves.

T.J. just nodded in quiet approval, following as Buffy joined Andi in the quest for protein.

“Lesson two in readily available information that you can take advantage of- there’s tons of info about the best fish to eat, for your body and for the environment,” said Andi, before picking out a slab of a white fish, passing it to T.J., who quietly put it in the cart, trying to file the information in his head. Buffy took a step closer to him as Andi continued on her journey of the market, looking at labels and price tags with a keen eye.

“I wrote this all down, it’s a lot to get in one dose. I’ll pass the page to you at home. It makes for a baller refrigerator magnet,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said, hoping that the words sounded as sincere as he felt. Gratitude grew in him, flooding over some of his feelings of helplessness and fatigue. 

Buffy apparently got the message, judging by the soft smile and sisterly pat she put on TJ’s shoulder. 

“You know the funny thing?” Buffy started, and T.J. could see that this was becoming a vulnerable moment for her too. “I was actually scared of you at the beginning of the week, as weird as it sounds. You just- I don’t know how to say this. You weren’t what I expected, is all.”

“Well, well, well. Now don’t go falling in love with me-” began T.J., putting his hands up and smiling too hard for what would probably be socially acceptable. Buffy’s laughter interrupted him, laughing a bit harder than he’d expected. _Dang_ , he thought, _is it that funny? The idea of falling in love with me? I was just trying to make fun of bad romantic comedies but this seems… mean? A bit disheartening?_

Buffy saw the shift on his face, and she quickly held up her own hands.

“No! No, no- the funny thing isn’t you being, like, undesirable or whatever. It’s just that I’m kind of, um, in the process of dating someone else and I think someone else likes you… that sounded cryptic, oof-”

“Buffy, it’s fine, it’s fine. I get it,” he said, before mentally sticking on a certain part of the sentence, “Wait, you think someone is interested in me? Romantically? Who?”

“Wait for the season finale,” she joked, and he just rolled his eyes. They walked on for a bit, in relative quiet.

“No, but really, who?” 

-

“Okay, so while Andi is going to be agonizing over the right sort of rice for your protein bowl, I’m going to take you to the magical world of grocery store hair care.”

“But my hair looks fine!” he said, defensively bringing his hand to his head, as if covering his hair from critique.

“Yeah, it looks _fine_ , but you need to actually take care of your hair, not just do it up in some gel and call it a day. I looked at the products you use, and there’s some small fixes we can do to maintain the health of your hair a bit better,” she said, pulling the cart to a stop in front of the wall of shampoos.

“Alright, what’s your advice? Stop the gel? Start conditioning? Teach me your ways,” he said, holding back his eye-rolling a little bit.

“Just because your hair is something you’re confident in doesn’t mean you have to defend it, or anything. This part isn’t where I’d roast you about shitty facial hair, because that’s not a problem for you. This isn’t about you being stupid or dumb, this is just about sulfates,” said Buffy, taking on her teacher voice. 

“Sulfates?”

“Yeah, they’re preservatives that gets put in all sorts of hair products. They suck for your hair, but they’re so widely used that you have to look for the ones without the sulfates. So you and I are going to find some shampoo that doesn’t have sulfates, and we’re going to have a good time doing it,” Buffy explained.

TJ nodded, a considering smile on his face.

“That sounds doable.”

“So let’s get this good time started.”

Then, the montage music kicked in, peppy and percussive as a fast forwarded Buffy and T.J. scoured through the aisle, looking at the backs of various bottles. Every once in a while, one would hold up product for the other’s approval, and it would get placed back on the shelf when the other shook their head, implying some bad past experiences or having read some bad reviews.

Finally, TJ pulled out a shampoo and conditioner set from the bottom shelf, and held it up. Buffy gave a thumbs up, and with a climatic toss in the shopping cart, the montage was over.

-

“Alright, so what did you learn from this shopping trip?” Andi asked, manning the wheel of the car and casting quick looks back at TJ, who was succeeding in his mission to take up as much of the back seat as possible.

“Sulfates are bad, soggy salads are even worse, and buy store brand.”

“With the exception of?” Buffy prompted.

“Sauces and dressings. You guys have taught me well,” said TJ, causing a cheer from the driver and passenger seat.

“The TJ Kippen Self Actualization Journey is on its way!” said Andi.

“What’s next? Marty taught me how to clean, y’all taught me how to shop-”

“For beauty products and food. Cyrus is going to teach you how to shop for clothes soon,” Buffy interjected.

“So, Cyrus and Jonah are next?” TJ asked.

“Well, we’re still working out scheduling, but you’ll definitely hang out with them in the next days. Buffy and Marty are thinking of teaming up on something, but it’s not for sure-”

“What are y’all thinking?” TJ asked, turning to face Buffy.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I wanna know!”

“You must be a nightmare before your birthday,” said Andi. “Are you the type of guy who asks everyone what they got him and then get mad when they actually tell you and spoil the surprise?”

“...maybe,” mutters TJ, worried for second that he just got exposed on national television.

“Let this be a lesson to you that you’ve got a long way to go, Kippen,” said Buffy, turning around to offer him a sympathetic glance.

“Every day I get more confused on whether you are my worst enemies or my best allies,” TJ said with a soft smile.

“Well, you’ve got four more days to figure it out.”

The car burst into light hearted laughter, and the uplifting music came on again, ready for the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yall thx for reading i think u guys know the drill at this point,,, if not look at earlier authors notes! anyway i love yall with my whole heart so <3<3<3


	4. day 4

The fourth day started with Cyrus, chicken and waffles, and a phone open to TJ’s Instagram profile.

Naturally, TJ was a mix of excited and absolutely fucking terrified.

“I find that most people I work with are more, uh, amenable to honest discussion when they’re eating a food they like. Your mom tipped me off about the meal, so now it’s all about the honest discussion. Are you ready?” Cyrus asked, his focus shifting between TJ’s face and the orange juice he was pouring into both of their glasses.

“I- I guess so?” TJ stammered, looking around the room like a frightened animal, “Are we the only ones up?”

“Your mom is with her friends for brunch, the rest of the crew is sleeping. A bunch of them stayed up late yesterday watching some BBC show. They’re all really into that British stuff, it’s their bonding activity,” Cyrus said, all casual smiles and easy conversation.

“Do you, uh, not like that British stuff?” Something about this question made Cyrus laugh, which brought a natural smile to TJ’s face. The anxiety over their fashion talk was slowly drifting away into simple enjoyment of their conversation.

“It’s alright, I guess. I just don’t go crazy over it like some of them do. Marty, Andi, and Jonah especially… They love those period dramas. Me and Buffy watch it because we love them, but I just went to bed early. Anyway, back on topic- what do you think your style portrays to people? If someone were to see you for the first time through this account, what would they see?” Cyrus asked, pushing the phone closer to TJ. 

He cautiously scrolled through the few posts on his profile that hadn’t been either deleted or archived. They were the basic faire- him at a basketball game with some of his friends, a picture of him and Adele (her music was one of his guilty pleasures) at a photo-op, and all the other usual suspects.

“My style, is… I mean, I clean up nice-”

“I’m sure you do, but what do you clothes make you think of?” Cyrus asked, looking more earnest. TJ clicked on a recent post, then another, and then another. In every single one, he was wearing basketball shorts.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“The first step of recovery is admitting you have a problem,” Cyrus said, reaching out his hand to TJ’s shoulder, giving it a comfortable squeeze. TJ ducked his head, hiding the slightest smile.

“Alright, I’ll say it: I wear too many basketball shorts,” TJ said, bringing his head up. Cyrus’ hand, which had lingered on his shoulder, gave another squeeze, his time more celebratory.

“You know what this is? Growth.”

“You know what you are? Mean,” said TJ, emphasizing his point with an angry bite of his waffles. The effect was admittedly marred by the way that a drop of syrup then dribbled down his chin, making him look less like an angry adult and more like an annoyed toddler.

With a laugh, Cyrus casually took a napkin and stuck it to the syrup, letting it hang in the air as TJ broke and began to join the laughter.

-

Cyrus thumbed through the rack of pants, looking at them with a critical eye that TJ couldn’t even begin to mimic.

“So, uh, what are we looking for?” he asked, mindlessly trying to go through a rack without having any idea of what he was trying to find. Cyrus looked up from his search, and gave a smile, one that quickly infected TJ.

“Slacks. Your fancy pants. Your date at a nice restaurant pants. Your ‘dressed to impress’ pants-”

“Just to be clear, is this all the same pair of pants? Because that’s a lot of pressure for the clearance aisle,” TJ said, pointing at the slightly worn down sign above his area that screamed ‘CLEARANCE’ at the top of its voice.

“You’re the one in the clearance aisle, I’m over here, two racks over, trying to find the perfect slacks that you should splurge on,” teased Cyrus as he pulled out a pair in consideration, gave it a hard once over, and put it back. Something about the sight made TJ smile.

“Al _right_ , I get the agenda here,” TJ said, causing Cyrus’ head to snap up once again from his perusing.

“What agenda?” he asked, his expression somewhere between worried and amused. 

“You’re just keeping me in clearance because you don’t trust me to choose my own slacks,” he said, his voice teasing. Cyrus still felt a chord of worry, but he pushed his smile so he could keep up with the banter.

“You’re the one who gravitated that direction, I gave you no such commands. If you want to help me over here, there’s space on this walkway for two,” said Cyrus, shuffling over the slightest bit, as if to emphasize the possible space where he could stand before continuing. “It’s almost as if you think that everyone will see you the way that _you_ see you, and it keeps you from doing things you want.”

“Is Jonah worried you’re going to take his job?” TJ asked.

“He should be,” said Cyrus, punctuating it with a wink. “Now get over here.”

-

The first fashion show was in TJ’s slacks, just to satiate the cameraman’s lurid curiosity with what he looked like without basketball shorts. 

When he walked out of the dressing room, he was clearly nervous- fiddling with the hem of his button up shirt, visibly debate whether he should tuck in the shirt or let it hang loose. The camera stayed on this sight for a second, before panning over the Cyrus and his slack-jawed expression.

“Hot damn,” he muttered under his breath. The giggle of a camera man could be heard in the distance. TJ’s own laughter began, his nervousness dissolving under the weight of Cyrus’ appreciative gaze.

“I clean up nice, don’t I?” he asked, sneaking a look at himself in the mirror at his side. Confidence was slowly setting into his posture, the hands formerly used to mess with the shirt now being casually kept in the pockets, giving an aura of nonchalance that made TJ feel a little bit more comfortable in his own skin.

“You do. I mean, you’re definitely, um, an attractive guy, but… suits. Suits are good,” stammered Cyrus, before trying to visibly shake himself out of whatever trance he’s been caught in.

“Will I see you in one? At some point this week, I mean,” asked TJ. 

“Who knows?”

“The producers, probably,” said TJ, making eye contact with Cyrus, his voice lower and serious than it usually was.

“Yeah, probably,” said Cyrus, and there was a beat of silence. Whatever moment had existed between the two of them, it was properly broken by a pointed cough from the sound technician, and Cyrus shooed TJ back in with vague directions about trying on a different fit of pants.

When TJ went back into the dressing room, Cyrus looked at the cameras, or more specifically, Clyde, the closest cameraman, who was shooting him an amused look. 

“Shut up,” said Cyrus, despite Clyde’s silence. He ducked away from the cameras to “go get something”, just barely hiding his blush.

-

TJ and Cyrus were on the car ride back, heads bopping along to the pop song on the radio, until Cyrus slowly turned the volume dial down.

“Quite a day, huh?” he asked, and TJ could feel The Talk™ approaching them. He was ready, weirdly enough. It was an unfamiliar feeling, being ready to be vulnerable.

“Yeah, I’d say so. I’m glad to finally have other options for pants… Even I was getting a little bit tired of the basketball shorts,” he said before nervously running his hand through his hair. The incoming Talk™ was evident just by the gravelly timbre of his voice.

“Why do you think you’ve been so stuck on the shorts?”

“Because I haven’t had any reason to dress up, to be honest,” TJ said.

“Does not wearing basketball shorts make you happy?” Cyrus asked, making TJ laugh a little bit at the odd question.

“Sometimes.”

“That’s reason enough.”

The statement hung in the air, unapologetic and frank. TJ didn’t know how to respond, he just mentally scrambled for the right way to respond, wondering how to put those months of fatigue and self esteem issues and long nights staring up at his ceiling and wondering if he’ll ever truly understand what love means.

“I’ve just been in a rough place, recently. Taking care of myself is hard when I feel like I’m dying.”

“Heartbreak can do that to you. I don’t want to say depression, because that’s… another level, so to speak, and even though I’m pretty cool, I don’t have the ability to give you a diagnosis. What I can give you, though, is some skills that might make this journey a bit more manageable,” said Cyrus.

“What, like finding slacks that fit?”

“By finding clothes that make you feel good about yourself. Fashion can be a good outlet, and if it makes you feel a bit more comfortable in your skin, it’s a worthy thing to put time and energy into. If basketball shorts make you feel good about yourself, then we’ll stop joking about them, but I can’t help but feel like that’s what you choose because they’re the closest thing you can grab,” said Cyrus, tapping his fingers a bit in anxiety of TJ’s response. This was a bit of a risk on Cyrus’ end, he knew that much.

“You’re right,” Cyrus breathed a sigh of relief, “I haven’t been living as much as surviving… I’ve been on autopilot for the longest time, I’ve gotten _comfortable_ in it. It’s like… it’s like this is just who I am now, like this feeling won’t ever go away.”

“It will. Heartbreak has a habit of fading with age.”

“It’s certainly begun to fade, that’s for sure,” said TJ with a secret smile coloring his lips.

“Progress!”

-

Dinner that night was a group affair at the local cafe, giving TJ an excuse to dress up a little, and he used it to take his first step in the new direction. With jeans and a button up, he looked like a flower in bloom, right on the cusp of being a fashion icon.

They commandeered a large table in the corner, the Good Hair Crew, TJ, and his mother.

“So you’re past the halfway mark. How does it feel?” Buffy asked as she used her fork to playfully push some of her mashed potatoes around her plate. 

“Pretty good! I’m stylin’, I’m savin’... I’m cleaning too, but that doesn’t fit so well in the rhythm, so…” said TJ, causing a light round of laughter around the table. 

“Are you excited for the end of week fashion show? Right before the Singles’ potluck, of course,” asked Jonah.

TJ was still smiling a little bit as he thought, imagining what the fashion show would look like. How would they react? Would they be unimpressed? Disappointed? He’s seen those reactions before. He saw his ex’s face when they met for what would be their last date, as if he’d been looking for a reason not to end it but couldn’t find it in the cut of TJ’s pants or his collar.

The memory made his face fall a bit, which Jonah noticed.

“What’s on your mind, buddy? Because if it’s about the fashion show, I promise-”

“Just some weird memories, it’s alright,” said TJ, trying to brush it off, leaving as much space for a swift topic change. Jonah, however, was sturdier than that.

“Tell me the memory.”

TJ looked around the table, feeling the intensity of everyone’s curious eyes on him. He steeled himself with a deep breath, feeling the awkwardness of the moment dawn on him. Nonetheless, he had a courage inside of him that needed a workout, so he jumped in.

“Just- on the last night of my last relationship, we were about to go out to dinner, and I stepped out in a new outfit, and he gave me this look… something about it just stuck with me. I don’t know, I guess I’m a bit afraid that when I do the fashion show tomorrow, I’m going to get that look again. That weird mix of disappointment and exhaustion and just- the look that reminds me that I’m not good enough. That’s the memory,” TJ said, feeling himself get more emotional and honest as he went along. 

“I know that look,” said Cyrus, breaking through TJ’s heady anxieties, turning his attention away from the vivid image to the vulnerability in Cyrus’ eyes.

“Yeah?” he asked, so softly that it must’ve been embarrassing.

“Yeah. From exes and parents alike. The latter have come around from their… issues, but the history of Cyrus Goodman’s exes and their grievances is… long and tumultuous,” said Cyrus. 

“It’s rough, for sure,” corroborated Marty. “When I came out to my parents, they gave me the exact look you guys are talking about. What I had to learn is that even if it doesn’t always feel like that, I have some intrinsic worth that they can’t see. When people look at you like that, it’s because they can’t see your humor, your kindness, and all the other baller things about you. In that moment they see only a part of the picture, and you deserve people in your life who are willing to look at the rest of it.”

“There’s also an important factor you’re missing out on here: some people have bad taste,” added Buffy, making Andi nod vigorously.

“Yes! One asshole’s trash might be the world’s treasure,” she said, making the table laugh.

“Trust us. We all have certified fantastic taste, and we like you a lot,” said Cyrus, pairing uncertainty and sincerity in what felt like the perfect salve to calm TJ’s insecurity. 

Looking around at the table, at these new friends(?) as they nodded in agreement, TJ came to the startling realization that he didn’t know how deeply he wanted connection, how much he wanted to know and be known, to love and be loved. With the feeling came a new fire, a new motivation to get better. 

This makeover was in full swing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love y'all!!!1! Hit me with a sweet sweet comment to brighten my day, im sending love and motivation from my laptop to whatver device you're accessing my story on.

**Author's Note:**

> jsafkjebfjawebfejbfawekj;fkjdwedsujkj yeah
> 
> comment if ya want and followe me on tungle dot com @thesubtextmachine, where I take requests and all that.


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